Of Drabbles and Demigods
by stupid-tai
Summary: Chapter 18: Training - Propriety and convention seemed to go right out the window with them.
1. Imperative

**Imperative**

"-and it's absolutely crucial that you watch my footwork on this maneuver…"

Percy had zoned out, which probably was not a good idea, given that he was in the middle of training some of the campers that were more inexperienced with swords. Though, that didn't really faze him, as the son of Apollo that he was sparring with couldn't even touch him while he was standing still.

No, the fact that an untrained minor was swinging a sword not five feet away from him barely registered. Percy had become lost in blonde waves (the very best kind, in his opinion, and that was saying something), never-ending legs, and deep, deep gray eyes. She looked at him from across the arena and waved from where she was training another group of new demigods, a bright smile plastered on her face.

Percy grinned back stupidly before feeling a tap on the shoulder. He heard metal shatter and whipped around suddenly to see Timothy Sung holding the hilt of his sword, standing in the shattered remains of the blade.

"Sorry Percy, I didn't mean to actually, hit- why did the sword break anyway?"

He shrugged, not really inclined to answer, and looked back at Annabeth. The girl was laughing while her group of kids was staring at him in awe.

When she stopped heaving from laughter, Annabeth turned to her group and said, "That is why it's imperative to keep your eyes on the battle. If you weren't invulnerable like Seaweed Brain over there, you'd be sliced to ribbons."


	2. Whim

**Whim**

If she had to describe Percy in one word, it would have to be whimsical.

And that scared the living Hephaestus out of her.

What if she was just a whim? A passing fancy? He wasn't the most attentive, unless it was in battle or in bed.

Strike that. Nothing could break that boy out of a hormonal stupor. She quite liked it sometimes, but that was beside the point.

So what if he decided to move on? What if she was just another pretty butterfly, there for him to revel at until he saw something shiny? Well, that was a pretty bad analogy, as he wasn't nearly that stupid, but what if she was just someone to kiss?

He waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention and she frowned.

"What, Seaweed Brain?" She asked, a bit harsher than she had intended.

He looked affronted, but lowered his gaze to his shoes abashedly.

"I was just saying you're cute when you think too hard and you completely zoned out. Are you okay?"

And Annabeth knew, despite whatever distraction came his way, he'd always be worrying about her, just as she worried about him.

If she had to describe herself in one word, it'd have to be stupid.


	3. Gutter

**Gutter**

It startled her more than anyone.

She had expected him to be all over her. Not that she was pompously proud of her looks or anything (actually, that was the one aspect of herself that she did not take pride in), but for some reason unbeknownst to her, the son of Poseidon was attracted to her so called beauty. So, him being the boy and all, she thought he'd be the one to think dirty.

She was, for once, very, very wrong.

She could tell he liked her; her heart would swell whenever their hands brushed and he would blush, mumbling a quick apology. But he was such a gentleman that she often was left sorely disappointed when he would simply cuddle up to her on the occasions that she snuck into his apartment to spend the night. Sure, she loved the feeling of his arms around her, but she wanted MORE.

She wasn't sure when her mind had rolled face down in the gutter, but she couldn't bring herself to be bothered by it. After all, he was much too sexy.

His hair felt phenomenal as she twisted her fingers in it. She was hyper aware of his hand on the small of her back, but that was nothing compared to the feeling that coursed through her body at the intense kissing he had sprung on her. He backed her into the granite counter (when had they entered the kitchen?) and yelped when he picked her up- by the rear, no less- and set her on top of the long wooden table. Salt and pepper shakers rolled off the table and hit the floor with resounding _clunks_ as she lay down and arched her back, pressing her chest into his. He slipped an arm around her torso and pressed their bodies flush together. She leaned up for a kiss when he pulled away.

"Annabeth, we should stop. I mean, I don't want to make you do something you'll reg-"

"Percy Jackson, if you don't take your pants off in the next five seconds, I will hurt you."


	4. Soap

**Soap**

Various articles of clothing, blueprints, and even a couple leather-bound books sailed through the Athena cabin window and at his face. Thankfully, Annabeth was never a good arm when she was in a blind fury.

"You've got some nerve, you face-eating asshole! To ask me to forgive you after what you fucking pulled is-"

"Shut up, Annabeth, I already told you nothing happened!"

That jarred her a bit. He rarely fought back when they got in arguments, unless it was with a cocky, playful grin. Still, he knew Annabeth thought she was sure of what she saw.

"Then why were you kissing her, Percy?"

"I told you, I wasn't! Gods, Annabeth, you can be so stupid sometimes!"

He knew he had struck a nerve, slighting her intelligence, but he didn't really care much. After all, he got it every day and took it with a grain of salt.

"Oh, so your lips magically touched in a completely platonic way? Don't insult my intelligence, Percy Jackson!"

Percy decided to ignore her command and said, "No, she kissed me!"

Annabeth scoffed and cried, "How the hell do I know that? For all I know you've been all over the Aphrodite cabin since camp started!"

"Maybe the fact that I've risked my life for you! Or that I've killed for you! I declined godhood for you. I thought about _you _when I jumped in the River Styx. She wasn't the one who I crossed country to hold the sky for, just to get yelled at for not thinking Luke was alive. I'm not him, Annabeth!"

She could tell that he had wanted to say it for a long time, and she hadn't realized until then how much she had hurt him. She really only focused on the fact that Rachel Elizabeth Dare had asked him out for coffee on day, or that one of the new Aphrodite girls was cozying up to him. Not once had it registered in her mind that he felt he had to live up to, and perhaps even surpass, Luke's importance in her life. After all, he had accomplished that years ago, so she would never consider him to feel threatened.

"Percy-"

"No, Annabeth! If that's not enough for you, then maybe you should think about it. My fatal flaw is _PERSONAL LOYALTY. _You really think I'm about to cheat on you?"

"Percy, I'm sorry."

"Oh, so you can apologize, but I can't?"

By this point, she was feeling very, very stupid.

"Please, just listen Percy. I know, you didn't do anything with her, and I won't lie to you, Luke meant a lot to me. But he could never measure up to how you make me feel. I was just scared."

The sincerity in her eyes kept his scoff at bay, and she continued.

"When I saw her kiss you, I felt terrible, and then I felt scared, because you make me feel that way. You don't do it on purpose, but I couldn't stand it if I lost you, and…" By this time she had already started tearing up, and Percy, the loving being that he was, strode up to her and hugged her.

"I'll never hurt you, Wise Girl. You wanna know why?" She nodded into his neck, and he slid her hand to the small of his back. "Because you can hurt me just as badly. But I know you won't, and I trust you, but you gotta trust me." She nodded, sniffling into his shirt while he kissed her hair.

Suddenly, there was a shout of laughter, and the couple whipped around to see Nico di Angelo almost rolling on the ground, clutching his sides from laughing too much.

Rachel stood next to him wearing the I-know-everything look that Annabeth found to be constantly annoying.

"You know, Hephaestus should make a show about you two. They'll call it 'The Soap of Heroes'. You guys are so cliché the ratings will be through the roof."


	5. Palette

**Palette**

"Red?"

"Not even close."

"Hmm. Purple?"

"Nope." He liked the way she popped her P's.

"Blue?"

"That's your favorite color, Seaweed Brain." She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean it can't be yours!" He shot back indignantly, a pout masking his smirk.

"Just keep guessing."

"Uhh… Orange?"

She mulled this over for a second before saying, "Orange would have to be my second favorite."

"That wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that the camp shirts are orange, would it?"

"Shut up!" She hit him playfully on the shoulder, blushing a deep pink.

"Who knew you could be so sentimental, Wise Girl?" It was her turn to pout.

"Just keep guessing."

"Um, purple?"

"You already said that, stupid." He stuck his tongue out and pulled a face.

"Sorry. What haven't I said? Yellow?"

"Percy, I can't tell if you're dancing around it or you're just really bad a guessing."

"What? Why?"

"Because you've said just about every color on the palette besides the right one." A gray pair of eyes rolled once again.

"Oh… Um… Oh, Green!"

She laced her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

"How'd you know?"

**A/N: One guess as to why her favorite color's green XD**


	6. Repetition

**Repetition**

It was hot and humid and sticky in room A-404 of Goode High School, and Percy didn't mind it one bit.

You see, hot and humid and sticky meant that his girlfriend; gorgeous, gorgeous Annabeth Chase, who had just enrolled in the public school due to the fact that her previous private one coincidentally went up in flames a month earlier, would be forced to wear her shortest short-shorts and her messy, luscious blond hair in a messy, luscious bun.

She liked to pretend it was for comfort in the sweltering, near-summer weather, but he knew it was because she wanted to look presentable for him.

As his ADHD brain melted into nothingness, he reached across the aisle and brushed a stray lock behind her ear. She looked up from her book slowly (of course she would be reading on the last day of school), her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. He could tell that half of the color was from the heat, but he would bet his top dollar that the rest was embarrassment. It had been a year, and she was used to the fact that they were, indeed, dating, but she had never gotten the Public-Display-of-Affection thing down. However, that didn't quite stop him from leaning across the aisle, because she was so damn hot (pun intended) and her lips were just begging for a good…

Something small hit him in the temple and he winced. He'd gotten this many times before. Tearing his eyes from Annabeth's lust blown pupils, Percy looked to the front of the room to see his step-father point at the clock, smirking.

Paul was right. There were five more minutes left in the school year. Making out with Annabeth in the middle of AP English would not help his one-year-straight record. Besides, in less than twice that time, Percy would be sprinting down the steps, hand in hand with his girlfriend, take her to the alley behind the school, and kiss her pretty little-

The chalk board suddenly erupted in flames as a man twice as fat, three times as tall, and half as ugly as Smelly Gabe (so pretty ugly) barreled into the small classroom, screaming, "WHERE IS HERACLES!", in a rather generic Italian accent.

Annabeth was stunned for a second, eyes still flitting to Percy's lips, before she jumped out of her seat and pulled her bronze knife. All around them, people were shouting their heads off, yelling about a gas explosion, but he heard her over the commotion.

"What the Hades is Kakos doing here?"

Percy stood too, extracting his ballpoint pen, Riptide, from his pocket. When he uncapped it, it grew into a three foot long, celestial bronze instrument of chaos, and he couldn't help but think that he was_ so_ close. Two more minutes and he would have made his first full school year. EVER. He tried not to feel too angry as he strode toward the hulking, fire-breathing, pizza scented giant.

"Here we go again."


	7. Peace

**Peace**

Ironically, it was unsettling. Being able to train day after day without a care in the world, no threat of war looming down on them. Being able to study for Finals like a _normal_ person. They just weren't used to it.

Percy had gone out for fencing, figuring it would be a breeze, but he quickly learned that the sport was very different from Swordplay. So, he joined the basketball team, though how he could shoot hoops and not celestial bronze tipped arrows, she'd never know. He had also taken up (of course) swimming, though, he promised not to cheat too much. She disagreed. Being who he was constituted cheating in its own right.

Meanwhile, she joined the tennis and soccer teams. Needless to say she was the best player on both, but as Percy constantly insisted on being annoying, he had pointed out that her battle reflexes and ADHD were also, technically, cheating.

So, they continued like that, going out on frequent normal people dates, seeing normal people movies and eating normal people food. And without the commotion of war plaguing them, they were free to… _explore._

They started out watching the movie intently. They would chuckle at the stupid parts and gasp at the exciting (or, as exciting as normal people action can be).

Then, not thirty minutes in, it happened. It was so sickeningly cliché, but she didn't really register it at the time. They had both reached for the popcorn at the same time, and their fingers brushed and sparks flew. They locked eyes and all precept went out the window.

Arms flailed and spit swapped.

"Percy…" She moaned weakly, heat pooling where his hands grasped her… backside, and almost everywhere else on her body too.

His response came as a deep, guttural growl and he nipped at her collar bone, then her jaw, and finally, her lips.

She broke away and stared. The look on his face was the same one she left him with at the forge not two years ago.

_Hmm, _She mused. _So this is how normal people make out._ No murderous telekhines, no invasive demigods. Just Annabeth and Percy.

Maybe she could get used to it after all.


	8. Phrases

**Phrases**

She shuddered to think she was a hopeless romantic, but her heart fluttered when he muttered those three little (terribly cliché) words.

It hadn't been particularly romantic. In fact, he had probably sprung it on her at one of the worst times possible.

Neither of them had slept in forever. They'd had three monster attacks and two tests sprung on them in the past week, and both were mentally exhausted. Though, still more tests loomed around the corner, so naturally, Annabeth insisted on studying.

"Annabeth, you know we both can't read that book. Can't we just have my mom read it to us or something?"

Annabeth shook her head and concentrated on the jumbled words in front of her.

"I can do this. It's just Emerson; remedial at best."

Percy groaned and flopped down on his bed, scowling at the ceiling.

"You've been on the same page for an hour! Remedial my ass."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes while Annabeth reread another floating paragraph before Percy sat up and gently removed the book from her hands.

She frowned at him and said, "Percy, it won't matter that Paul's your step-father if you fa-"

Percy cut her off with a very, _very_ deep kiss (tongue and all) and she could only resist so much before giving in and letting him guide her back down to the mattress.

They continued for another few minutes where the room temperature seemed to skyrocket when Annabeth broke the kiss for air. She stared at his gleaming green eyes and mussed, dark hair for a couple of seconds and something inside of her broke: her will power.

"Percy, let's do it."

His eyes widened comically.

"You sure?"

She couldn't pretend she hadn't thought about it. They were young (sixteen being younger than she had imagined her first time, anyway), but war had matured them beyond their years and she trusted him and dear gods she wanted him.

She nodded her head and he scrambled off the bed toward his nightstand, discarding his clothes on the way. He yanked the drawer open so that it almost fell out and pulled out a box of…

Despite her blush, she chuckled. So he had been thinking about it too?

Percy made his way back to the bed as she stripped as well. Now that they were in their undergarments, the realization hit them.

They were about to have sex.

"So…"

Annabeth put her finger to his lips, and with more confidence than she thought she had, guided his hands to the clasp of her bra. She helped him unclasp it and the black lace slid off.

Percy looked like he'd been shot. He'd seen her in all of her bare-chested glory once before, but he just couldn't help it.

He said something intelligent like, "Uhhherm…"

She laughed and said, "Percy, shut your mouth; you're gonna start drooling again."

He scowled and attacked.

She moaned a little as he kneaded and sucked, but she felt vulnerable. She liked to be in control.

After he finished pulling her panties off, Annabeth used his momentary… distraction to push him off of her and put him on his back. She straddled him (very embarrassing with the absence of clothing). His eyes were wide in shock as she leaned into his ear and whispered, "These boxers are a problem."

Almost immediately, the offending piece of cloth was removed and she found herself face to face with his...

"Holy Poseidon…"

It was her turn to stare as he smirked.

"Open up a bit; I can't get in."

She scowled up at him while she grabbed the base and lowered her mouth over him. He was already partially there, but she wanted him harder.

"Shit…" he groaned as she pumped faster, tucking a stray blonde lock behind her ear. "Gods, Annabeth."

A couple minutes in, after he had started moving his hips rhythmically with her, he started to pulse. Her, being the sadist that she was, pulled away.

"Oh, come on, Annabeth!" he whined as she stood up. He stopped whining when she pulled a condom out of the box and unwrapped it.

Annabeth was about to roll the rubber down him when there was a shriek from the doorway.

"PERSEUS JACKSON!"

Annabeth scrambled to pull the covers over her exposed body, blushing so hot that Apollo would be jealous, but Percy just sat there staring at her.

The blonde look slowly away from her boyfriend and to the doorway, where Sally Jackson stood, blushing almost as bright as Annabeth and hiding her eyes with her hand.

"Get dressed! NOW!"

She didn't need to be told twice. Sally was a cool lady, but that's probably what made it so scary when she was furious.

Annabeth hurriedly pulled on her shorts, leaving her underwear where they lay, but Percy still just sat there. When she hit his leg to get him moving, he muttered, "I think I'm in love with you…"

**A/n: I hit a block, so I wrote some smut :l if you guys haven't noticed, most of these have nothing to do with each other. Also, I'm taking ideas, cuz I have the creativity of a cod fish. Btdubs, someone remind me to proofread later. I'm being lazy now.**


	9. Gray

**Gray**

A couple sat near the Long Island beach, reveling in the salty breeze, and even more so, each other.

The girl was tall and lean, wearing an orange shirt and denim shorts, complete with a holster which housed a long, wickedly sharp bronze knife. She had smoky gray eyes and curly hair that was tied in a messy bun and cascaded down to her shoulders in shiny blonde ringlets.

The boy was well-toned and lean and he wore a matching shirt, accompanied by long black jeans. He bore no obvious weapon as the girl did, but a pen the same color as the girl's dagger poked out of his pocket. His eyes were deep green with specks of blue thrown in, and when they moved it seemed as if waves were milling in them. His hair was a mess of black. Solid black.

Annabeth (the girl) reached up from in between her companion's legs to brush a piece of wayward obsidian hair out of his eyes, frowning. Percy (the boy) glanced down at her, eyebrows scrunched.

"What's up, Wise Girl?"

There was a pause where they stared at each other, sea green clashing with stormy gray. Then, she spoke.

"It's gone." She whispered, a bit downcast. He couldn't help but think how cute she looked when she was upset.

"What's gone?" He inquired, shifting so that she was sitting on his lap.

"You're gonna think it's stupid." She pouted and he laughed.

"Annabeth, if there's one thing that I know you're not, it's stupid. You're also no arachnologist." He smirked as she shuddered involuntarily in his arms. "Just shoot."

"Alright… The gray streaks. From when we held up the sky. They're gone."

Percy stared at her for a moment before chuckling. "Annabeth, they've been gone for a while. And besides, I thought you wouldn't want to have gray hair at fourteen."

"I was thirteen, stupid, my birthday's in March. And that's not it. It was… nice. It, you know, tied us together."

His eyebrows raised and he said, "I never woulda pegged you as sentimental, Wise Girl."

She blushed and hit his arm and muttered, "Shut up."

There was a pause before he broke the comfortable silence. Leaning into her, he whispered into the shell of her ear, "I'd hold the sky for you again, if you wanted. But I don't know how well get yours back, 'cause I'm never letting you do that again. Maybe some hair dye…"

His voice trailed off, leaving her blushing in its wake. She turned around to peck him on the lips and say, "Now look who's being sentimental."

He shrugged and grabbed her hand. Sliding it down to the small of his back, he said, "Well, we don't need those anymore. You're kinda stuck with me until I die."

She rubbed the spot and he groaned.

"Yeah, I know."

**A/N: It sucks cuz you assholes wouldn't give me prompts :P jk, you guys are chill. This is cuz the streaks aren't mentioned at all after the third book, so it can be assumed that they're gone.**


	10. Literature

**Literature**

"I swear, Rachel, sometimes I just want to strangle him!"

The scarlet haired girl barely looked up from her strawberry smoothie to acknowledge her blonde haired companion. She had heard this so many times that the girl scarcely had to use her Oracle prowess to predict it on their outings. However, mid sip, she replied, "Really? I wonder when we came to that conclusion."

Annabeth shot her a glare, but decided her boyfriend was the more agitating, and thus, continued her rant.

"Seriously, what kind of seventeen-year-old kid doesn't get the hint that his - in all modesty- rather hot girlfriend wants to have sex? I mean, I couldn't make it more clear if I taped it to his forehead and clothespinned his eyelids open!"

The blonde threw her hands up, exasperated, as they exited the bookstore café line and moved to the posh, cushioned chairs that were littered randomly around the sitting area. When they sat, Rachel frowned at the terribly bland coffee table in front of her and wondered if she would get in trouble if she poured her bavereage over it. At least it would liven things up.

" – and he's always kissing me so hard that my lips get swollen and he's perfectly fine because he's got that damned curse and I just want to get it over with so that he can stop leaking testosterone everywhere –"

"Annabeth!" Rachel shouted, drowning out the girl's tirade while rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I've heard this a million times before, so do you want to keep raving or skip to the part where I help you?"

Annabeth huffed and crossed her arms, but she said, "Fine. So what do you have in mind?"

"Well," Rachel stared, putting her feet on the table and leaning back, "first thing's first. You acknowledge that you want it just as bad as him; not any of this 'I just want to get it over with' crap." The blonde made to protest but Rachel put up a hand to stop her. "And you know what he's like. I mean, he obviously wants to hump you up the wall – "

"Rachel!"

" – but you have to consider that he's also a part of the two percent of the world's male populus that does_ not_ see fit to fuck the brains out of anything and everything that moves, and instead _respects_ a girl's virginity."

"_Rachel!_" Annabeth shouted a little more insistantly as her face burned redder than the Dare girl's hair.

Rachel raised her hands in relent. "Okay, but you know it's true. That being said, since you've already tried hinting at it, you just gotta come out and say it."

A still flustered Annabeth mulled this over for a moment before saying, "You want me to blatantly ask him for sex?"

"No," the redhead replied with a shake of her head, "I want you to make it so painfully obvious that he has no way to ignore it. He's not stupid, he's just too gentlemanly to take you up on it until he know's for sure."

Annabeth bit her tumbnail, her usual calculating ambiance absent in the face of relationship troubles, when she jumped.

"Shit, I said I would meet him in Central Park at four!" She exclaimed as she read the time on her contraband cell phone. If having one behind the protective borders of Camp was strictly frowned upon, walking freely through Columbus Circle in posession a mobile device was a big no-no.

Annabeth hurriely made her way from the pseudo-coffee shop and toward the big glass entrance of the adjacent bookstore – Rachel in tow – when a figure sailed through the air and, reaching the decline of it's arc, smashed through the pane, shattering the glass and splintering three whole bookcases.

The store was in disarray, and pannicked shoppers ran amok thought the building, but Annabeth dashed through the clouds of dust and toward the fallen figure. She knew any mortal would have been killed, but she still found herself hoping against hope that it wasn't him who had just assaulted a bookstore with his body.

However, she was sure that the Fates hated her, because Percy Jackson sat up in the midst of the debris, his sword nowhere to be found and his jet black hair dotted with shrapnel.

"Ow, that kinda hurt…"

The dissheveled boy sat up a bit more to find a familiar hand pushing him back down.

"Percy, what the hell?"

"A- Annabeth?" he asked, eyes wide as dinner plates. "What are you doing here? I thought you were at the park!"

"I could say the same for you," she said, cocking her hips and crossing her arms, "but you obviously didn't think our date was important enough to actually be there, did you?"

Percy sputtered a bit before going red and saying, "I was waiting for you there, but then Diomedes showed up and launched me across the street! Besides, I'm the one hanging out in Borders half an hour after the concert started!"

Annabeth glared at him, but she knew he was right. This, however, made her even more angry.

"You," she said, pointing an accusing finger at her boyfriend, "stay right here."

The girl said it with such authority that Percy had no second thoughs of following her command.

Annabeth turned to face the shattered remains of the glass doors and saw a hulking figure stepping through the frame.

"Son of Poseidon, you shall pay for besmirching my father's name!" it bellowed, head swiveling to search the wreckage for Percy.

Annabeth strode up to the monster and it glanced down at her before smiling.

"Ah, you smell of the boy. You are his mate, perhaps? No matter, I shall capture you as bait for that insufferable – "

Annabeth shoved her dagger hilt-deep into the son of Ares during his monologue, who gave a small squeak of surprise before bursting into dust.

The blonde patted her hands together so as to rid herself of the vile substance while making her way back to her obediently sedentary boyfriend. It was only when she reached him that she realized where he was sitting.

Percy had landed waist deep in the Erotic Novels section.

Ignoring the boy's praise for so easily defeating the giant, she knelt down and picked the nearest book up. The title read _The Final Step: How to Consumate Your Relationship._

Perfect.

As Percy stood up, Annabeth pulled the most innocent face she could muster and said, "Percy, will you buy me this?"

**A/N: LOL, sorry, it's been a long time. I've just been so consumed by schoolwork it's maddening. Lol, jk, I don't do schoolwork XD Nah, it's just that Ive been reading a bunch. The Hunger Games series was suuuuuupar chill, and I am Number Four was pretty cool too. Granted, I finished those in a total of probably three days, but I also made a point to watch all 291 fucking episodes of Dragon Ball Z, and I regret nothing. It's very likely my favorite anime now. Though, if anyone's watched DBZ straight, it takes a bitchload of time. This means you will most likely see Huger Games and DBZ fics poppin up soon. I liked I am Number Four, but John and Sarah are just too cliché for me to write. I mean, their names are John Smith and Sarah Hart… -_- But Katniss/Peeta is pretty boss, cuz Gale is much too bland for me to write, and Gohan is like, my pride and joy, and with Videl thrown into the mix, you've got a boss fanfic on your hands :) Plus, Vegeta seems really fun to write. Anyway, my uber long absence is why I graced you with a super long chapter, even if it's a pile of crap :D**


	11. Cumulus

**Cumulus**

"That one kinda looks like a hellhound." He said, pointing so she could see. She examined it for a second before nodding.

"Yeah, and that one looks like a guitar." She said before it shifted, taking on a completely different form.

He snorted. "No it doesn't."

She punched him in the arm and muttered, "Asshole."

He chuckled and let things settle down for a time. Then, he pointed again, laughing, and said, "That looks like my dad fishing."

She scoffed and said, "Yeah, you can see his nectar gut." She immediately regretted doing so because the water churned around her feet and she subconsciously latched onto the boy's arm. He must have done something to placate his father, because the foam around their feet settled to serene lapping at their calves.

After giving the god time to calm, she pointed at the sky again. "Hey, that one's cool. It reminds me of – Percy!"

The boy burst out laughing while guarding against her hits. "I'm sorry, but the look you get when I make 'em change shape is priceless!"

**A/N: Short and sweet.**


	12. Objectively

**Objectively**

Jason Grace quickly amends his previous skepticism of the son of Hades's strength. Nico Di Angelo is not scrawny, nor awkward, and he most certainly does not suck as at fighting. Instead, he is fierce, nimble, and in possession of such tactical prowess that, if Annabeth Chase is really that much better than this kid, Jason may have to reassess his whole conclusion that the Greeks aren't all they chalk themselves up to be. Hell, if _Percy Jackson_'s so much better at swordplay, they might not _need_ anyone but him to fight Gaea.

Between merciless blows and incremental use of demigodly powers, Jason is brought to his knees, heaving to draw breath and his face much too close to the styngian iron sword point for comfort.

Halting his attack, Nico helps him to his feet, though the frown is still apparent on his face. Jason still can't help but notice the kid is at least two inches shorter than him. This just throws yet another kink in his inherent son-of-Jupiter pride.

Still gasping for air, Jason glances around the arena. He does receive haughty looks from the crowd, but these seem to come predominantly from the Ares and Athena cabins. Mostly, he gets pity, which might be worse. But he can tell from their eyes that they've seen injured ego before, probably with Thalia, and he realizes that the Greeks could possibly understand all of this stuff much better than the Romans think. There are more important things to them than holding their pride.

Annabeth jumps from her perch atop the arena wall – and damn, Jason can't help but notice her legs couldn't be more perfect and this Percy kid must have been one lucky bastard to get with that – and says, "Are you two done playing Alpha-male? Because I brought you here to discuss how to get Percy back, not for you to wave your testosterone around."

The crowd around them chuckles, but they know it's no joke. That's when it hits Jason. This is what's more important than their pride. More than anything, they want their leader back.

No, not their leader. Their friend. Percy Jackson held an important place in all of these campers' hearts; be it friend, rival, or even lover. Jason thinks he could slit his throat at how disgustingly cliché Annabeth's dedication and desperation to and for him are. But he can't, because they're so terrifyingly _real _that he's sure he hasn't even skimmed the superficial boundaries of love yet. He finds himself wondering what they've been through to get to this point.

However, Jason thinks Nico Di Angleo's statement hits him the deepest.

Wearing a hard glare - a glare which betrays no hate, but is criticizing all the same - Nico states so matter-of-factly that Jason cringes, "You're no Percy."

He can't tell if the boy is talking about his swordplay or his lack of understanding all this emotion that broils in Camp Half Blood for their lost hero. He doesn't even know Percy Jackson; he can only guess what he looks like and how he acts. But he does know one thing.

He couldn't agree more.

**A/N: Sorry for the delay guys. I've been lazy. And I also apologize to the Jason fans out there. I like Jason just as much as the next guy, but really, _he's no Percy._**


	13. Oddity

**Oddity**

It's odd, really. She had assumed that this would be their downfall; the inevitably tragic ending that would rear its ugly face in all Grecian romances, brought on in their case by the cruel ventriloquy of one goddess of marriage and an even more cruel goddess of love. After years of passing glances and offhanded flirting, they had constructed something both of them were sure they would be able to lean on; something that would last forever.

Only to have it torn down by the devastating hand of fate.

They arrive at the shore of Baker beach when the _Argo II_ hits the soft sand with a resounding thud. Jason practically leaps off deck and floats to the ground with a cry of joy; Poseidon was never terribly hostile toward anyone save for her mother, but Jason's stomach never held well on the open sea.

And suddenly, when Jason is hunched with the effort not to puke and Annabeth is feeling a little wobbly herself while unloading with the others, they are surrounded by no less than sixty demigods and an extremely menacing pack of wolves the size of manatees.

Annabeth immediately enters battle mode, and she almost pulls her dagger, but she notices the armor and how its not as eloquently crafted as any of the pieces back home. They certainly are beautiful pieces, but the workmanship is harsh and menacing, and they leave little room for openings. Still, it'd be much harder to move in them than in anything Cabin 9 made back at camp. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Jason, who looks like he has just been shot.

The others are slower on the uptake than her, but they catch on a split second later and when they're about to draw swords she yells, "Stop!"

Confused but obedient, the group behind her looses the battle tension, and it's then that they start to piece everything together.

Slowly, she takes a few steps toward the group of what she now realizes are kids, and she holds her hands in the air. The soldiers tense like she's advancing on them so she stops. She contemplates throwing her knife to the ground, but Annabeth is sure the archers she knows are hidden in the trees will take it as an invitation to shoot, so instead she unbuckles the holster from her waist and lets it fall to her feet.

This seems to do the trick, as the group as a whole seems to calm some, and Annabeth takes this as a good time as any to talk.

"We mean no harm," she announces. It takes her a second and some surprised looks from the groups in front and in back of her to tell Annabeth that she's instinctively speaking in Latin. She's not fluent, but it's not necessarily broken either, and she knows that they'll be placated by this more than any other gesture she can offer. "We have come here by the ordinance of the gods. They have given us signs; a warning that terrible things are about to happen. Only by uniting can we-"

"What are you called, demigod?" The largest of the wolves snarls, and she can't help but wince at the saliva dripping down the thing's muzzle. She knows this creature.

"I am Annabeth Chase, daughter of- daughter of Athena..."

This, apparently, is the wrong thing to say. The wolves crouch and snap their teeth so menacingly that she winces while the roman demigods collectively gasp. Annabeth scrambles to make amends.

"Wait, wait! We're not here to make war!"

A voice from the crowd calls out, "How can we trust you, Greek?"

A sudden flame of indignation is lit in her. How dare they say her heritage as such an insult? But she calms herself. She needs to control the situation fast.

Annabeth points to the still shock-ridden Jason and says, "That's why."

For a moment, the whole group seems to have gone brain dead. Then, shouts of joy and "Jason!" fill the air. He's swamped with nearly half of the group rushing to greet him with hugs and laughter, but the other half, the predominantly older and seemingly adequately trained half, just looks on in surprise.

But between all the noise and commotion, Annabeth hears a voice so familiar she squeaks.

"Seriously guys, get the hell out of my way!" A body is pushing itself through the crowd of the sedentary half of Romans, and when it emerges, Annabeth nearly falls over.

There he stands, looking frantically at the shore. He's taller now, at least four or five inches taller than her, and he's become more muscular, but the lean figure is still there. He's still wearing the ratty old shoes she left him with, though they look even rattier now, and the cargo shorts don't look much different than the ones he usually wears. What's different is the purple shirt stretched across his torso. It doesn't look bad on him; Annabeth is starting to doubt anything would, but the letters _SPQR_ are terribly out of place on his chest. The six camp beads, however, look perfectly cozy just below his Adam's apple.

His eyes finally lock on hers and it starts. She didn't know she could react like this to simply looking at him. She thought that was only in cheesy romance novels. But her chest is squeezing so tightly in on itself it hurts and it's all she can do not to clamp down on it.

Annabeth might laugh at the dumbfounded expression on his face. If she can manage to breathe properly.

When he speaks again, Annabeth feels as if she's being fed a delicacy she's been unfortunately deprived of for the past six and a half months.

"You're- you're Annabeth, right?"

Her first thought is one of such joy she almost cries. Her second is the one that brings this sentiment crashing down harder than Daedalus's Labyrinth. _I just told everyone that._

She knows her voice will be shaky, but she talks anyway. "Yeah, I'm- I'm Annabeth. I just said that."

She feels Rachel come up behind her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she barely notices. Percy looks at Rachel for a brief second of confused recognition before he refocuses on Annabeth.

When he's struggling for words, Annabeth notices the crowd that's formed. There are still people gawking over Jason's sudden appearance, something Annabeth thinks should be far more important to them than her and Percy, but Percy seems to be pretty popular around these parts, because she can hear the whispers of, "So _that's _the girl he was talking about," and, "I guess she is pretty cute."

Then again, none of them really matter to her.

Suddenly, having not found the words he had wanted to say, Percy blurts, "I'm sorry. I- I'm sorry I don't remember. I've been trying so hard. It actually hurts, you know. Like, legitimate pain. Nothing else does, for some reason, bu-"

"You can't be hurt, idiot."

She can see some girls form the crowd actually glare at her for slighting his intelligence, and she figures it won't really promote her cause to do so, but she can't help it because she's so used to him and it's reflexive to be teasingly mean to him now.

He blinks at the insult, and she's suddenly scared he won't remember that she doesn't mean it, but he grins slowly and she's looking back at the face of Percy Jackson, demigod champion and her boyfriend. The face that smiles through tragedy and whose eyes twinkle with such an illustrious, sea-reminiscent green they rival his fathers.

"You used to call me that. Whenever I did something stupid. Or you got jealous or something."

She feels her face flush, but she refuses to hide it. It would look bad in front of the Romans no doubt, but looking at the ground would be much worse.

"So... I love you, right?"

It's like the force of his words are choking her. Forcing their presence down her throat and into her chest where they see fit to shatter her heart into millions of minute pieces. _He doesn't remember if he loves me?_

He chuckles, and she might either cry or stab him. Though, her knife is on the ground and all the Romans are still on their guards, and Lupa hasn't taken her eyes off Annabeth since-

But then she looks directly into his eyes, the ones that mill like the bright ocean tide, and she understands.

He's not asking because he's not certain. He's asking to confirm that he's not crazy. He needs the fact that she's been in but never out of his every thought and dream for the past half a year is validated by someone but himself. That he's feeling love toward someone who feels love back.

Annabeth can feel her broken heart mending, and with the realization that through even a goddess's curse he remembered her over everything else, elation brews in her chest.

Silently, she nods, and Percy's eyes light up. This is when she knows that he's not the Roman fighting zombie she thought they would make him into. With his memories gone, he's not even Greek Hero of Olympus or fearless leader of Camp Half-Blood. He's Percy Jackson, the innocent, charming, quick-witted, awkward twelve year old kid she met on the hill all those years ago.

The kid she fell in love with.

Suddenly, they're rushing toward each other, and when they embrace, they kiss so deeply her toes curl inward in her shoes. His taste, his scent, his feel; all are flooding the empty reservoirs that had been dry for much too long. Through the haze obstructing the outside world, Annabeth can make out applause and laughter from the group of Greek campers she brought with her, and she can even hear a few wolf-whistles coming from the roman group.

They pull apart after a few seconds (or maybe it was a year?) to look each other in the eyes. With foreheads touching and breaths mingling, Percy lets out, "I take it we're a thing?" She nods again, grinning like an idiot through the tears running down her face – she can't bring herself to care that the whole Roman Legion is watching – and he says, "I have good taste, then. You are quite possibly the most attractive person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, Wise Girl."

She might have hit him if he hadn't called her that.

* * *

**AN: Why are all you guys so depressing? When I read other reunion fics like this, they're always so chock full of teen-angst. Throw in some fluff, would ya? I wrote this cuz Rick's first chapter of SoN gave a hope to Perccabeth that the angst writers seem to overlook. Luke and Ethan are dead. Rick doesn't much like angst. Also, I didn't add much Jason relationshit cuz then you get into the whole Jason/Renya thing which I don't support and this fic would have been so much longer than it already is cuz it's really just supposed to be a drabble and Jason isn't really my favorite character anyway. He's a cool guy, he's just too much like Percy except hes much more angsty. I drew the line after Thalia. And if you guys think I'm baggin' on angst, I want you to know that I do like it, but only when it's complimented by something else. It's a great characterization element that adds a lot of depth. But it also gives a sense of morbidity. The truly interesting characters come from those who have reasonable angst yet overcome it with... whatever you want to call it. Something inspiring.**


	14. Childish

**Childish**

She recognizes that it's obscenely juvenile, not to mention it's horribly uncharacteristic of the great Annabeth Chase, but the little girl buried deep inside her simply cannot help it.

Absentmindedly, she'll scratch it into her diary – _notebook_ – while drawing up plans for a new chariot design. She'll find herself tracing the familiar pattern in the sandy shores of the Sound, and hastily wipe it away with her foot, gods forbid anyone should notice. Once she even carved it into the bottom of the lunch table by mere muscle memory, and by the time she realized it, it was already lights out. She had been forced to sneak past her brothers and sisters in the dead of the night to sand down the stone, lest her dignity be tainted by such a scandalous masterpiece.

Though, the Fates must find her less than favorable, for when she asks Malcolm to bring her the map of the Bermuda Triangle that she had drawn up after last summer's quest, he brings her the notebook instead. And, in her haste to snatch it away from him, she realizes gravity must hate her too, for it falls to the cabin floor and promptly explodes in a flurry of papers.

She darts to the pages and quickly tries to shove them back in their binding, but Malcolm is quick too, and he plucks one of the papers from her hands. She has a hard time concealing her blush now.

"Annabeth... you cannot be serious."

He's red from the effort not to laugh, and she's red with embarrassment as she rips the page from his hand.

A page that is covered with the mantra, "Mrs. Annabeth Jackson," bubbled in perfectly shaped hearts.


	15. Bonding

**Bonding**

Annabeth huffed. Obviously the Fates had nothing better to do in their immortal lives than to tear her dignity a new one.

The blonde daughter of Athena stomped indignantly across the valley, toward the cabins and away from the Big House. After the bonfire, Annabeth had been summoned by Dionysus and thoroughly chewed out. Apparently one of the new campers–little brat–had witnessed her and Percy making out at the edge of the arena and blabbed to Chiron about it.

Fine, she conceded. She knew she should have moved the affections to somewhere more private, like the forest or his cabin, as was tradition for them. They were senior counselors, after all, and they had to set examples. But sparring with him had always gotten her a little… riled, and she just couldn't help notice the sweat dripping languidly down his exposed chest, passing his rippling pectorals, abdominals, and various other -als until it disappeared past his low-hanging waistband…

Stupid hyper-aware ADHD. Stupid hot boyfriend.

What she didn't get was why Percy had gotten off with a slap on the wrist while she was given kitchen duty for the next two days; probably because Percy provided Dionysus the very minimal exception for his hatred of demigods. Doubtless she'd make Percy share her duties.

Suddenly, as Annabeth was brooding past cabin eight, she stopped in her tracks. Something was very, very wrong.

There were crowds of people loitering around the Athena cabin, talking animatedly and laughing. Older campers from various other godly parentages strolled in and out of the owl embroidered door. In the windows she could see children of Apollo and Iris working together to create makeshift colored strobe lights. Annabeth could feel the rhythmic thump of bass in her ribcage from the music reverberating through the walls.

"What the – "

Annabeth strode up to her cabin and pushed through the crowds of people, some of whom patted her on the back, congratulating her on the party.

_Party?_

Inside was pure chaos. Or, at least, as close to chaos as she had ever seen her cabin.

Bunks had been pushed against the walls, bookcases moved out of the way, notes and blueprints stuffed hastily in drawers. Furniture from other cabins (at least, she hoped they were from other cabins; she had never seen these couches and beanbag chairs in her life) lay strewn about in one section of the cabin while people danced stupidly in the other. A pool table had been set up in the middle of the couches where Travis and Connor Stoll were ranting about placing bets.

What the hell is this, she thought. Where was Malcolm? She had been gone for little more than two hours and in her absence he was to take charge. Surely he wouldn't be this seriously irresponsible.

Then, a thought hit her. If everyone from the other cabins was here, then…

"Percy!"

Annabeth scanned the rooms and found her boyfriend loafing on a couch, her brother Malcolm next to him. Percy had been describing the joys of blue Coca-Cola animatedly while Malcolm laughed heartily between sips of the substance. Annabeth strode up to them, miffed.

"Percy, why the hell are there so many people in my cabin?" she asked, placing her fists on cocked hips. The two boys looked up from their conversation to regard her with identical grins. "What the hell is this?"

They turned back to each other, grinning wider with mirth, and looked at her once more.

"Bonding."

* * *

**A/N: Anyone else really like the family dynamic between Malcolm and Annabeth regarding her relationship to Percy that Rick set up for us in The **_**Battle of the Labyrinth**_**? I mean, Grover gives exceptional leeway in this area, but Malcolm's got the whole brother thing going, and Grover would do better from Percy's POV, being his best friend and all. It just gives you so much material for Malcolm to tease Annabeth, who I find funnier to tease than Percy, for some reason. I think it's because Percy's personality makes him take it with a grain of salt while Annabeth's so proud and all. Anyway, end rant :l**


	16. Rooftops

**Rooftops**

It's all very morbid, she realizes, but her first thought is, Shit, they're dead.

Annabeth is frantic. Hurriedly sprinting from room to room, she wonders if her house was always this large.

Couldn't be, she thinks to herself, attempting to quell the panic ready to seize her mind and trying instead to think logically. Her father had always done relatively well for them with the money he earned from the university, but there is no way it'd take a full five minutes for her to check every nook and cranny of the stupid place. Some higher power must be messing with her.

Annabeth throws open her bedroom door for the third time and is ready to break down. Where could they be? Percy was never particularly confined to the house (though, where would he have to go in San Francisco without her to bring him places?) and if he could hold his own against the great titan Hyperion, Annabeth reasoned he could take care himself. At least, for a little while.

But Bobby and Matthew never went outside without consulting Annabeth or her stepmother first, and the latter wasn't home. Where the Hades could they have gone?

Annabeth's over-active mind reeled with possibilities: eaten by _Dracanae, _kidnapped by wood nymphs, mauled by hellhounds, seduced by sirens… Her mind's eye flashes back to when they were little and the Virginia house was raided by Amphisbainai: little two headed snakes that took a liking to the boys' chubby little feet. Had she not kept the tenderizing mallet close at hand, she would have been down two brothers that day.

The horrible picture of the boys lying in pools of their own blood floods her vision, and she chokes back a sob just as the front door opens and her stepmother calls, "Boys, Annabeth, I'm home!"

Annabeth rushes to the foyer, tears stinging at her eyes.

Her stepmother is fumbling with three grocery bags, her purse, and closing the door with her foot when she sees Annabeth and asks, "What's wrong, dear?"

Breathily, Annabeth pants, "The boys. They're gone."

Brown bags filled with cilantro and eggplant fall to the ground, because the woman must know exactly what this could mean by now.

Frantically, they check and recheck every single room, sprinting up and down the stairs. Door after door, room after room; and yet, the twins are still nowhere to be found.

But just as Annabeth is phoning her father, twisting the cord nervously with her finger, there's a loud thump from the upstairs. The girl and her mother look at each other with confusion before dashing up the carpeted planks, the former pulling her knife just as an added precaution. Again they search every room and find nothing, but a thought hits Annabeth much too late and she could smack herself for being so stupid.

Quickly, Annabeth leads her stepmother to a different set of stairs; one that leads to the rooftop.

The women burst through the door leading to the plastered roof and breathe sighs of relief in tandem.

On a beach chair looking out to the sunset are Percy, Bobby, and Matthew, the latter two curled into the son of Poseidon's sides and sleeping soundly. Percy is dozing as well, his face placid and a children's book laying inches from where his hand hangs; he must've dropped it when he fell asleep.

Annabeth's worried expression subconsciously melts to an appreciative smile at the peaceful sight.

Suddenly, she feels a nudge at her side and looks to her stepmother. The woman is giving her a sly, sideways smile and says, "So, I guess he's a keeper?"

* * *

**A/N: I don't know why I love Annabeth's families… Anyway, I know Bobby and Matthew are probably supposed to be a bit older than I portrayed them, but FUCK THE RULES , this is fanfiction! Also, I never really felt content with fics that name Annabeth's stepmom, so I figured mine would be no different, and left her nameless. On a more personal level, I have come to the pivotal conclusion that I want to be a novelist. Does anybody in the world actually agree that I might have a career in literature or am I just fooling myself? Also, excuse any mistakes. I did this BS in 20 minutes :l**


	17. The Son of Neptune Review

Okay, so I know this isn't an actual drabble, and I hate it as much as the next guy when people post something and you're all excited about the next chapter but it ends up being an author's note.

BUT, this is a reactionary review about _The _FuckingBadass _Son of Neptune_! Please guys, I would really appreciate if you read and reviewed this with a discussion/debate comment. If there's anything I'm good at other than reading and writing, it's arguing. But, you know, constructively. If you drop me one, I'll try my best to write you a dedication drabble, and if I really like your review, then I'll try to write a prompt of your choice!

First matter to address: I have always found it hard to put one book in the series above another. Of course, the series as a whole—PJO and HO inclusive—is my favorite by far, but each of the books is a part of a whole that complete Percy Jackson while each still carries a weight of its own. Still, I always admired _The Lightning Thief _and _The Last Olympian _above the rest, because the former was just so magical and far from a simple exposition while the latter was just so full of emotion and badassery and Percabeth that they both tied for my favorite book of all time. But this new book is just… AMAZING. It pains me to say, but it bumped those two for the top and took its place as my favorite book in the series.

So, a list of reasons why I like the book so much:

-PERCY FUCKING JACKSON. His return was just monumental. Not to say I didn't like _The Lost Hero_, and Jason, Piper, and Leo are cool and all, but I have come to a conclusion: the first series being in first person, rather than third person as the second series is, gave me an attachment to Percy like no other, as we hear his every thought behind every action. He's witty, emotional, selfless, courageous, and so impeccably moral, and yet Rick never loses sight that he's still just a kid trying to live his life. That, above all other things, makes Percy very likely my favorite character of any fandom.

-Percy's recollection. Having Percy be exactly like Jason and not remember the slightest thing till the end of the book would have been painfully redundant. We know Percy's back-story, and the fact that Rick threw it in along the quest was just so _satisfying_. Having Percy pine for Annabeth was probably my favorite part of Percy remembering his past, because seeing Annabeth so sad in the first book made me want it to be a two way street. Plus, Percy's argument with Mars was genius.

-The new characters. I'll be the first to admit that Frank tried very hard to make me mad. I felt as if he was trying to steal a bit of Percy's glory, having strange and awesome powers. But I couldn't not like him, because his personality was very appealing, and he kinda worshipped Percy to an extent. Plus, Percy was too badass to be overshadowed anyway.

Hazel was a bit harder. Her being a daughter of Pluto didn't really leave me sore, because her powers correlate to his wealth aspect, while Nico and Bianca's powers were geared toward his domain of death. I also kind of liked her story, as while Nico and Bianca were stuck in time, she practically left time by dying. What did irritate me was just… _her._ I can't explain it any better than that. But beyond that, I liked her.

I really did like Reyna's character. She's, of course, the regal roman type, but she has a sort of self-doubt that also makes her human. Also, during the war games and the final battle of the book, her actions and expressions make her seem like a kid, and even caring and girlish. Some people are saying she's too similar to Annabeth, but I disagree. Annabeth tries very much for maturity, but she has a sarcastic wit that is only topped by Percy and Thalia. Her girlishness also extends more to frustration and being flustered, as opposed to Reyna.

Octavian. That scheming, conniving, psycho son of a bitch. As a person, he's fucking awful for what he did to Gwen and deserves a good kick in the Earthborn soft-spot. BUT, I really, really do like him as a supporting character. He's so eccentric and power hungry he reminds me of Julius Caesar. I don't know whether I like or dislike him. Indecisiveness is a curse for me.

Ella did get annoying with all the fact-spouting, but I really like her as a character as well. Her meek brilliance is a very sharp contrast to Annabeth's proud brilliance, and it'll be interesting how that plays out, especially if she meets Rachel Elizabeth Dare. I feel as if Ella is more book smart (literally) while Annabeth is just smart all around. Also, her crush on Tyson is really funny. The big guy deserves some lovin'.

-Third Person Percy. A lot of people think that Jason is stronger than Percy. I can see why they'd think that, too. Jason, with all his boasting about slaying the Trojan Sea Monster and fighting the titan Krios barehanded—well, it does chalk him up as a badass. But people often forget that this is because we have no history with Jason, and furthermore, the first series was from Percy's point of view. When Percy did something amazing, we would hear every thought that ran through his head—how utterly terrified he was, every single one of his mistakes, and even all the humorous jokes he made. People take Jason's feats with a sense of perfection, because he says them like they went perfectly in his favor. But we have no clue if he made mistakes, or if he was scared, or if he though stupid things while doing them. For example, when Jason says he slew the Trojan Sea Monster, it sounded pretty sick. Much more sick than Percy blundering up Half-Blood Hill while rolling and dodging the Minotaur, questioning why he's wearing underwear. But what if he said it and we have no clue what went down? "I, Perseus Jackson, who hath conquered the mighty Minoutar, monster of the labyrinth and menace to all of Crete…" et cetera, et cetera. Sounds much more badass, right?

This brings me to my point. In third person, Percy is free to look as badass as he wants in the eyes of the ever admiring Romans. When Percy wrecks in the war games? Fucking _cash._ And when Hazel says she used to think Nico was the best fighter at camp (which I liked _very_ much), and then Percy stepped in and she had to re-evaluate? And _especially_ at the end when Percy's using his hurricane powers and then makes the glacier explode, and the next chapter or whatever he's standing back up top and is like, nah, that was no big deal.

Badassness aside, it also allows us to get a different view of his character. In the eyes of Hazel, he's good looking, strong, and courageous. Frank is pretty much his fangirl. And Reyna and a couple other characters also comment on how he's actually smarter than most people in fandom make him out to be. If there's one thing I hate, it's stupid or selfish!Percy. Another thing we see is how amazed the Romans were whenever Percy said he did something super sick in a totally nonchalant way.

Plus, we see how much of a ladies' man he really is. I mean, he got Annabeth, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, and Calypso hot and all in the first series, but Reyna wanted him after like a day, and Kinzie was an Amazon: women who are very picky about how mad chill their mates must be.

-The cliffhangers. Yes, I wanted to throw my book at a wall when I read the end, but it was very smart of Rick to end it that way. I know now that I will be much more excited for _The Mark of Athena _than I was for _The Son of Neptune_, and that's saying A LOT.

-The plot twists. Rick has an amazing talent for these, and he uses that talent exceedingly well in _SoN_. When Nico was revealed to have been at the camp for a while, I shat bricks, and when Reyna and Hylla were from Circe's Island I shat more bricks. But Leo's was the winner. I saw it coming a mile away, but just… ughsgaklshdfjkladf. Of course, this creates another love-triangle—another thing Riordan excels at—but as long as it does not involve Percy or Annabeth, I couldn't give two shits.

-The plot bunnies. Having Nereus chow up and be like I'm fucking watching you was so funny. And the mortal stuff like iPads, Amazon, Skype…

-The battles/fights. They were just fucking sick, especially the last battle where Percy rides in on Mrs. Fucking O'Leary and goes all Spartacus. When he used Jupiter's power (a god who doesn't particularly like him) to demolish the Earthborn army… there were tears.

Now I'd like to talk about the things I didn't find as great:

-The giant fights. They were made out to be like, super-powerful beings, and they were taken out pretty easily. At least, easier than any of the titans. They were still sick, though.

-How fast Frank and Hazel were characterized and how strong they were.

Now, don't get me wrong; I would NEVER bash Rick for his characterization and I think he did a very good job on it in the book. I just feel like he rushed into Frank and Hazel a little too fast. I totally understand that. In the first series, the only character he had to make terribly dynamic was Percy, and he pulled that off with flying colors. In the new series, he's got six or seven that he's gotta compensate for, and it makes sense to do it as fast as he can. Frank was totally acceptable, even, with all the talk that he would burn bright but short. Of course his character would have to be established fast. Still, it was hard to understand: if Percy had been bossing up his demigodliness for about five years and he did struggle along the way to get to how strong he is now, I find it hard to believe that Hazel, who is thirteen and has had a couple months of training, and Frank, who has only been training for a couple weeks, would be able to be so strong as to take down the oldest giant together. I completely accept that Percy and Jason did it, since they're the strongest from their respective camps, but Frank and Hazel? Percy just should have led the badasssery a little more.

-Percy bossed more than ANYONE, yet he didn't boss nearly as much as he could have.

There is one thing the book does that I could not agree with more though. I believe _SoN_ exemplifies the fighting differences between the Romans and the Greeks. I feel like, save for maybe Jason, the Greeks are much better fighters one-on-one. Hazel had met Jason personally and seen him fight, yet she still claims Nico to be better, and even better than Nico is Percy. Frank compares Percy to a demon during the war games, and none of the roman warriors are a match for his fighting style. In contrast, I think the Romans would be much better in terms of actual warfare, because they would fight better as a whole than the Greeks would. The evidence is even in the history: greek demigods were much more invested in carrying out their heroics on solo-missions, while the most famous roman demigod, Aeneas, traveled with a boat load of men to found Rome. Even in the actually warfare styles, Greeks liked small, well extremely well trained units while the Romans sought to simply conquer with large numbers of trained soldiers.

If anyone wants my opinion, I think this is evidence that Percy would beat Jason one-on-one. Jason's got stricter training, sure, but Percy's fighting style is much more reactionary and extraneous, which is much better for one-on-one battle. Also, I feel like Percy's got better control over his powers. Jason gets really tired after using lightning bolts, while Percy's only make him tired if he uses them on a large scale for an extended period of time. Not to mention that Percy's survived lightning bolts from Thalia before without it hurting much. Nothing can really be said for who's the better swordsman, but I tend to lean more toward Percy, because Percy's main weapon is a sword while Jason used both a sword and a spear. Plus, now Jason doesn't even have his main weapons anymore, and he has to use Hera's gladius, which probably doesn't balance right for him. AND, no offense to Jason, but Percy seems more quick on his feet, both physically and intellectually.

ANYWAY.

Here is the part where I talk about my theories and speculations.

So, if you're reading this, I assume you know about the whole Leo/Sammy shebang. I was fine with Hazel being from the past, since she didn't really copy Bianca and Nico in that way, but if Sammy died and came back too, I will be mad. That being said, I don't think Rick would do that. I believe Sammy is either a distant relative of Leo's, or Leo is Sammy reincarnate, as if Sammy chose to be reborn or something. Though, I don't really see that happening, since he's not a demigod or anything. OR WAS HE? He also could have been Hephaestus/Vulcan disguised as a mortal, which would create a very nice method of bringing another god into the mix, as well as presenting some god/mortal affairs.

Now, onto Annabeth. I totally think the title of the next book refers to her. Also, Juno saying Annabeth will be problematic for the quest really didn't bother me as much as it should. This implies that either Annabeth will turn evil, dies, almost dies, or will be stupidly annoying. I doubt the evil thing a lot. Stupidly annoying isn't her thing. Almost dying will make for some heroic!Percy.

The thought of Annabeth dying, though, makes me want to curl up into a ball and cry. HOWEVER, I don't think it would be all that bad. It would make sense with the whole, "Percy would give up the world to save those he cares about, blah, blah blah." Also, he wouldn't let her go without the fight of his life, which would make for some pretty boss action scenes. Then, once she actually dies, he'll freak out and cause some seismic event where someone has to calm him down, after which he will be all sad and depressed. THEN, I figure he will resolve to pull an Orpheus and go get her back, but he'll do it Disney Hercules style where he'll go to the Underworld and beat up—insert death/underworld god here—to get her soul back. It would be the saddest thing ever, but it'd make for some epically great material.

Nico. I have not one fucking clue where Rick will go with this. Obviously they're going to get him back, but I dunno. Maybe Hades will storm the castle like a boss to get his son back. Or maybe the gang will rescue him. Or maybe Thalia. Who the fuck knows?

So, now that I've gotten all of that off my chest, tell me what you guys think! I want to know if you agree with me, disagree with me, what your take on the book was, and what your theories are. Leave a review and we'll totally talk about it! And I promise, I have a drabble I'm almost done with, so I'll be updating soon.


	18. Training

**Training**

Jason can't tell if he's watching an elegant choreography or the prologue to World War III. This is certainly not the quaint spar he had been looking forward to watching.

When he voices his concerns to Grover Underwood, Camp Half-Blood's resident Lord of the Wild, he and a few campers chuckle as if the question is naïve.

"Don't worry," the satyr tries to reassure him. "Intense is kinda their style."

"It's a sort of weird foreplay for them," Travis Stoll interjects, and Grover goes red.

Turning back to the arena, he sees Annabeth almost castrate her own boyfriend with a wickedly sharp knife—the one that she'd been so kind to introduce Jason to when they first met on the skywalk.

Though, Jason can fairly say he has never seen a defense as tight as the one flaunted by Percy Jackson. The boy sees the low strike and easily catches the hilt of her knife with his sword. Jason notices the flex in his arm and knows that Percy is about to disarm her, but she pulls away.

The two jump apart and circle each other like panthers. Annabeth takes the opportunity to taunt her opponent.

"I thought they might have actually _taught_ you something at that Camp Jupiter, Seaweed Brain. You're like a rusty old man, the way you're fighting."

Percy flashes an indulgent, patronizing grin, as if she'd just called him a teapot, and calls back, "Huh, you must be pretty bad with that knife if you can't beat a rusty old man like me."

The campers around Jason laugh while Annabeth flushes an attractive pink color, and the son of Jupiter can see an opening when she stiffens a little. Percy doesn't take it, however. Jason knows it's not because the boy didn't see it, he's simply not that underhanded—at least, not with his own girlfriend.

Annabeth quickly gains her composure and vaults in for an attack. When she's about to stab, Percy spins around the strike and swipes at the chink in her armor with the flat of his blade. Just as the metal is about to connect, Annabeth bends lithely, limbos his sword, and creates space with a few back-flips. Percy reacts instantaneously and pursues lightning-fast, kicking at her feet on the last flip and causing her to fall to the ground with a grunt. Before she can scramble away, Percy pins her to the arena floor with a knee to her back and vice-like grips on each of her hands.

He leans in to her and whispers something Jason can't hear, but it makes Annabeth blush redder than Apollo's cattle, and Percy's grin is unmistakable. She starts to squirm after a moment, and Percy benevolently loosens his grip—at which point Annabeth springs free, whips a hat out of her back pocket, and jams it on her head. Before she disappears, Jason can make out a self-satisfied smirk, like she's some kind of Cheshire Cat.

"No magic items, Wise Girl," Percy says, but he's not grinning anymore. He even looks a little worried as he slaps his wristwatch and a shield with embossed pictures spins out of it.

A faint chuckle alerts him to her presence, but he knows she'd change position in a heartbeat. Suddenly, Percy lifts his shield and Jason hears the resounding clang of metal-on-metal. How Percy knows where she's going to strike is beyond Jason. At least, for another minute, until he realizes from the jerks of Percy's head that he's close enough to hear her footsteps.

The other campers must come to the same conclusion, because one asks, "Why's he keep defending if he knows where she is?"

Jason knows the answer to that one. "He can't see her right now. If he just swings blindly, he could hurt her."

Never before had Jason fully appreciated the conniving tactical prowess of Annabeth Chase. The ability to simultaneously give herself the edge _and_ push her opponent into a position where he can only defend was a scary concept.

Though, Percy doesn't seem without his own devices. While the son of Poseidon is still defending from Annabeth's blows, Jason sees his jaw tense and his brows scrunch in concentration. Suddenly, the floor of the arena starts to rumble and small fissures open in the terrain. Dust and dirt rise from the floor, and the only people capable of keeping their stability seem to be Percy and Nico di Angelo.

As quickly as they came, the tremors stop, and many of the campers are left grumbling as they pick themselves off of the floor.

Jason knows that Percy was the cause of the minute earthquake, but he's certainly at a loss for why until he sees a shift in the rising sediment—a patch of air impermeable to the dust, where Annabeth stands invisible, silhouetted by clouds of dirt.

As swift as before, Percy darts toward the girl. Just as he's right under her absent nose, he caps his sword, retracts his shield, and thrusts the now ballpoint pen upward in one fluid motion. Annabeth appears right in front of him looking a bit frazzled by his sudden move, her Yankee's cap falling lightly to the floor.

Silence fills the arena, awe radiating throughout the onlookers at Percy's finesse. The boy stands up tall and smiles down at Annabeth.

"Nice spar, Wise Girl. I'd almost forgotten what it's like to win against you; you've beaten me every time for a _long_ time."

Annabeth just stares at him, and Percy's grin falters and he starts to rub the nape of his neck out of habit. Then, Annabeth flings her arms around him and kisses him intensely.

The entire camp groans.

"See, I told you sparring gets them all hot."

"Yeah, like trying to rip each other's throats out is some kind of sick fetish for them."

"Freakin' weirdoes."

The campers file out of the stands and the couple in the middle of the arena remains blissfully oblivious.

As Jason stumbles away from the miracles of procreation and toward the dining pavilion, he thinks that these Greeks really need to rethink their definition of a "spar".

**A/N: As promised :) And I guess I'm dedicating this to ShadowFlame157 and gbuckner for their review on my reactionary post to **_**The Son of Neptune. **_**Thanks guys, I appreciate it! And excuse any errors; I'm fucking tired :(**


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